


Child's Play

by scatteringmyashes



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dad Iron Bull, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-26 17:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10791117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes
Summary: The Iron Bull has few rules when it comes to potential partners, but there’s one that he NEVER breaks: his son, Cremisius, has to approve of them. When Dorian hears about this, he figures it won’t be that hard to impress a kid.Shame that Krem’s figured out the system.Featuring Dad Bull, kid Krem, and Dorian trying everything in the book to get the approval of an eight year old.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be small and cute and short and now it's... well still cute but it's long because I can't write anything short apparently.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy. I've got a lot of ideas for this universe. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [scatteringmyashes.](http://scatteringmyashes.tumblr.com/)

It hasn’t always been a rule, not in so many words. Of course the Iron Bull has always cared about what his son thought, but before it had been a general thing to consider. Bull just assumed that anyone he liked, Krem would too. And Bull hadn’t held back from dating either, though he hadn’t gone out of his way to see people either. He wasn’t old and he was definitely attractive, he knew that much, but having a kid… Well, the Iron Bull wouldn’t have traded it for the world, but Krem took up a lot of time and anyone Bull saw would have to know that he’d drop everything for his son. 

Bull wouldn’t trade Krem for the world.

But no, there hadn’t always been a rule in place, not until Bull began to date Gatt. In hindsight, it hadn’t been the best of first meetings. Bull and Gatt had gone on a few dates, hooked up at Gatt’s while Krem was being babysat by Varric, before Bull had brought up the topic of meeting Krem. He had always been honest, mentioning his kid upfront, and that tended to scare a good number of people off.

Gatt had seemed fine. Excited, even, to get to meet Krem. Bull had gotten ice cream, sat Krem down, and told him that, “Tama is seeing someone and I’d like you to meet them.” Krem, in all his six year old innocence, hadn’t understood until Bull had almost literally spelled it out. “Gatt is my boyfriend and he wants to meet you, because he knows how important you are to me.” 

Then, Krem had adopted a big-eyed look. “Am I gonna get another Tama?” He asked, sounding like someone had just told him that his birthday, Christmas, and Halloween were all happening at once. 

It had taken a while to explain that Bull and Gatt weren’t quite that close, but Krem had been practically jumping out of his shoes when Gatt was on his way over. The Iron Bull had a casual walk through the park planned for the three of them, thinking it would help keep Krem’s energy focused and be low-stress for everyone involved. Krem hadn’t even complained when Bull combed his hair for a whole ten minutes. Not like it helped, but it was the thought that counted. 

The doorbell rang through the house, Bull let Krem open it, and Gatt stared. 

“Hi! I’m Cremisius Aclassi Bull, but everyone calls me Krem. That’s my Tama!” Krem pointed back at the Iron Bull, as if Gatt could have missed the seven foot tall Qunari sitting on the couch, and grinned at him. “He said we’re gonna go to the park!” There had been silence and Bull had wondered, not for the first time, if _seeing_ Krem had made Gatt rethink this. After all, there was a great difference between _thinking_ and actually _being_ ok with something. 

But Gatt had recovered quickly and soon the three were off, walking through the park and chatting. Well, Bull and Krem were talking. Gatt had been quiet. It wasn’t until Krem and Bull had gotten home that the problems started. 

“What did you think of Gatt?” The Iron Bull asked. Krem shrugged and kicked his shoes off, and sat on the couch. It was uncharacteristically serious for him and Bull had joined him immediately, pulling his son close. “What’s wrong, Krem Puff?” 

“I don’t like him.” It was so immediate that Bull found himself surprised, something only the kid tucked carefully under one arm could ever make him feel.

“Why not?” He asked. Krem shrugged and began kicking his legs, a nervous tic whenever he had something to say but was scared to actually say it. Bull waited, knowing that if it was quiet for long enough that his son would just fill the silence with noise. And of the two of them, Bull definitely had more patience. 

“I dunno. I don’t think he likes me.” 

When Bull had asked Gatt about it, he had laughed it off and said something about kids being kids. Thinking that was that, and trusting Gatt, the Iron Bull had dropped it. That, of course, would turn out to be one of the worst decisions of his life. 

About a month later, after Gatt had babysat Krem a few times when Bull had late nights, Bull had gone in to check on Krem. Usually the boy was asleep. After all, one am was far too late for him to still be waiting up but too early for even morning jitters to wake him. Gatt had also assured Bull that Krem had gone to bed at the right time and hadn’t even complained too much about brushing his teeth. 

But the Iron Bull, Tama to one person and one person only, had opened the door to his Krem Puff’s room and knew instantly that something was wrong. He had left behind military life but the skills remained, but anyone could have seen the way the blankets were quivering and the fact that Krem was nothing more than a curled up ball under all his sheets.

“What’s wrong?” Bull asked, sliding onto the bed and pulling the blankets down one by one until he could see his son’s face. Krem was crying and he latched onto his Tama. It didn’t matter that he was getting snot and tears on Bull’s shirt. He practically engulfed Krem with a massive arm, his fingers running through Krem’s messy brown hair. “It’s ok, Krem Puff. I’m here. When you can use your words we’re gonna talk, ok?” 

They ended up staying like that for about ten more minutes, but Krem did eventually calm down. He looked up at Bull with his big eyes, pink rimmed around the edges and a few stray tears still unfallen. Sometimes Bull thought Krem looked older than his age, but in that moment he was back to the little nervous five year old who had hid when Bull first met him. 

“Gatt calls me a girl.” As soon as Krem said that, Bull’s blood ran cold. After that, the rest of the story came out. Every time Krem was alone with Gatt, he refused to use the right pronouns and didn’t even use Krem’s name. Krem hadn’t told Bull because he thought that, “Tama would be upset because he really likes Gatt but Gatt is mean and I don’t wanna have him as my other Tama.” Krem fell into another round of tears and Bull ended up letting him sleep in Bull’s massive bed that night, though he felt too guilty to sleep at all.

The next day, Bull confronted Gatt about it and the two broke up. Krem was relieved, which made Bull feel even worse about dating an asshole for that long. 

“I’m never going to date anyone you don’t like,” Bull murmured one day, looking over to where Krem was happily coloring. 

“What?” He asked, looking over. Bull shook his head and went back to the kitchen to finish making dinner. His days of fast food and take out were long over, after all. He had a son to take care of.

//

Dorian met the Iron Bull a month after moving to the middle of fucking nowhere, or Haven as it was referred to by the locals. It was fall but it was already too cold, Dorian had seen more dogs in a single month than he had in his whole life back in Tevinter, and nobody knew the definition of ‘spices’ except the Rivaini place forty minutes away. He was lucky to get a position working at the small local college in the first place, and Dorian knew that this was only temporary, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

This was also infinitely better than one’s father using blood magic to change one’s sexuality, so Dorian supposed he couldn’t _really_ hate Haven as much as he wanted to hate it.

And by the Maker’s left ass cheek and Andraste’s tits, did Dorian want to hate Haven.

The Iron Bull met Dorian after taking a job fixing up one of the draftier wings of Haven’s college that would possibly collapse under the snowfall in the upcoming winter. Krem, a bright and cheerful eight year old, liked to suggest improvements to any of Bull’s projects. This was no exception, so Bull slapped a hardhat on the kid and brought him to work one day. As per usual, he got bored and things got too dangerous for him to really be walking around, so Bull sent him to the library.

About ten minutes later, Varric had appeared on the construction site, breathing heavily. 

“Tiny, your kid--” Varric didn’t get anything else out, because the Iron Bull tore from the construction site to the library. 

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t Krem crying as a flustered and unfairly attractive man stood around looking like he wanted to help but had never seen a child in his life. Bull dashed over and was surprised when the man turned on him, eyes flaring.

“You’ll only intimidate him further, sir,” the stranger said. _A mage,_ Bull’s mind whispered. _KREM,_ his mind shouted. 

“That’s my son,” Bull growled, knowing in that moment he looked every bit the savage Qunari that people warned their children about. “Get out of my way or I will remove you.” It was a valid threat. Mage or not, they were close enough that Bull could remove the man’s head from his shoulders before he could even say ‘fireball.’ 

Realizing this, the man stepped aside and let Bull do his job. 

Krem, rubbed his eyes and looked at his Tama, sniffing before reaching out to be picked up. For most parents, Krem would be rapidly approaching the age where carrying him was a last resort. When you were seven feet tall, you could easily lift most pieces of furniture, let alone a small kid. 

“What happened, kadan?” Krem was old enough that he rarely started crying without serious reason; Bull wasn’t going to just brush this off, especially since Krem liked the library. But Krem just shook his head, sniffing again and clinging onto Bull as if there was a chance of being let go. 

An awkward silence had fallen over the library. Most of the staff knew Bull and had seen Krem grow up for the last few years, but there were visitors who were clearly taken aback by what had happened. Varric, out of breath from sprinting after a giant Qunari, burst through the doors and coughed nervously when he realized things had mostly been resolved. 

“Come on, Tiny, let’s get the kid a hot chocolate. Sparkler, weren’t you busy researching something?” Somehow, Varric’s words seemed to snap everyone back to doing what they were doing before. With nothing better in mind, Iron Bull carried Krem through Haven Community College to the small coffeeshop nearby. Varric, a better friend and more caring than he would admit, followed the duo.

Bull was glad that Krem’s sniffing had mostly stopped by the time they got there. “Come on, Krem Puff, I gotta put you down so you can get a hot chocolate,” Bull said. Krem nodded but he stuck to Bull’s side, not running off like usual to claim the big, soft chairs in the corner. 

“Ok, Krem, your dad and I are going to talk together for a little, ok? Are you going to be ok by yourself for a little?” Varric asked. He was practically at eye-level with Krem. When Krem was a fully grown man, he’d easily be taller than Varric. 

Bull expected resistance, so he was surprised when Krem just nodded and settled down to sip at his drink. Varric led Bull outside, the big glass window in the front letting the two of them keep an eye on Krem, though he was pretty damn safe considering the baristas loved him. Everyone loved Krem. Well, everyone worth knowing. 

“Did you see what happened, Varric?” Bull cut right to the chase. He was on edge; he always was when something happened to Krem. 

“Krem’s from Tevinter, right?” Apparently Varric wasn’t about to be forthcoming, but they were good enough friends that Bull didn’t lose his temper again. He just nodded. “Sparkler -- Dorian -- was the guy you saw. He’s new here. He’s a ‘Vint.” 

“So? Krem’s a Fereldan just like you.” Bull had adopted Krem from a little town on the Tevinter-Orlais border, back before Bull had settled down in Haven and when he was still a… freelancer that travelled across nations for work. Getting a kid hadn’t been part of Bull’s life plan by any definition of the word, but he wouldn’t have done anything different. 

Ok, technically Bull had kidnapped Krem but that made it sound like Krem hadn’t been the one to suggest it in the first place. Also, Varric had pulled a few strings and things were legal now. Mostly. Bull just had to avoid going near Tevinter for the rest of his life. Which, all things considered, was not really much of a hardship.

“Not the point, Tiny. Kids remember stuff from when they’re really small and I’d bet my brother that Krem remembers what it was like in Tevinter.” 

“You hate your brother,” Bull pointed out. Varric gave him a look. 

“Not the point.” The two of them looked back into the cafe, where Krem was looking up at a barista who had just given him a giant chocolate chip cookie. Bull mentally despaired; it was going to take him an extra thirty minutes to get Krem to sleep now. The smile on Krem’s face made him relax, though. 

“Dorian was speaking Tevene on the phone and Krem heard him. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why he freaked out.” Varric hesitated. Bull had never really told people the exact circumstances of Krem’s spontaneous adoption, which was what he liked to call it, but Varric had been the one to help him get through the legal mess involved with getting Krem Fereldan citizenship. He knew that nothing good was left in Tevinter. 

Bull let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand over his face. “I’ll talk to Krem. Is this -- this Dorian going to be a problem?” He asked. Varric shook his head.

“No, no, I’m sure it was a mistake. I’ll talk to him and I’m sure he’ll want to smooth things out later.” Varric pat Bull on the arm, which was about as high as he could reach without getting a ladder. “I’ll talk to you later, Tiny. Tell the kid that I’ve got another story for him, next time he visits.” With that, Varric left Bull to talk to his eight year old about why he had just had a meltdown in one of his favorite places. 

Krem was surprisingly articulate about the whole thing and though Iron Bull wished that they didn’t have to have this conversation at all, he couldn’t help but feel a stab of pride. He still remembered when Krem barely spoke to him at all and jumped at the slightest surprise. Now Krem was growing up and was in school, had been for a few years really. He had friends and he was brilliant. Anyone would have been proud to have Krem as their son, but for some reason Bull was the lucky fool who got called Tama every day and tucked Krem into bed and made him eat his veggies. 

Bull could honestly say that he had never thought he’d be a parent, even or maybe especially after leaving the Qun, but now he couldn’t imagine life without Krem. He didn’t want a life without Krem.

“You aren’t gonna get rid of me?” Krem asked, soft and young and scared all at once. It threatened to break Bull’s heart. Bull shook his head and pulled his son even closer, kissing the top of his head even as Krem squirmed. “You’re squishing me! I’m gonna get squashed,” he protested. 

“Well I guess then you’ll be… a Kreme-cake!” Bull laughed even as Krem freed an arm just to facepalm. The kid had been spending an awful lot of time with Varric. 

“Tama--” 

“Listen, Krem,” Bull interrupted, something he tried not to do since it just encouraged Krem to do the same thing. “What’s your full name?” 

Krem let out an exaggerated sigh, but he sat up and looked his Tama right in the eyes. “My name is Cremisius Aclassi Bull and my Tama is big and silly and has horns like this.” He held his hands up and mimicked Bull’s horns, a serious expression on his face. “Horns up!” He shouted, headbutting Bull in the stomach.

“Ooof.” Bull pretended that it hurt even as he laughed. “Horns up is right, kadan.” He smiled down at his son. “And I’m never, ever going to get rid of you. No smelly ‘Vint is going to come between you and me.” Krem nodded sagely before making a face.

“He did smell. It was weird.” 

Later, when Iron Bull was cheerfully informing Dorian what Krem had first thought of him, Dorian was indignant. “He grew up with your stink, I hardly think he can be trusted as a judge of such things!” Politely, Bull refrained from commenting when Dorian changed his cologne to something that didn’t make Krem hold his nose whenever Dorian was in the room. 

//

“Hello?” Bull looked up to see the attractive mage from the other day standing at the door to his temporary office. Renovations to Haven Community College were never too intensive, but this time around they were just enough to warrant having a mobile office on campus so Bull could do work there. Besides, it was more efficient to stay at the college all day and then, on the drive home, pick Krem up from school. “I was told I could find you here.” 

The Iron Bull liked to think he was a patient man, but when it came to his son he knew all bets were off. “What do you want?” He grunted, shifting in his chair. It creaked in protest, threatening to collapse under his not-insignificant weight. 

“I wanted to apologize. I fear that I seemed like quite a -- a --- an ass the other day.” The mage shifted from side to side, his piercings catching the light. “My name is Dorian Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. Varric did not explain things in detail, but he said that my speaking Tevene around your son may have been why he was so upset. It was not my intention and I -- I hoped to settle that matter so you had no ill will towards me.” 

Bull nodded slowly, standing as he adjusted his tie. The very tips of his horns were just brushing the ceiling and, as it was, he had to keep his head tilted down or he’d begin to gouge the cheap trailer roof. He walked over to the door where Dorian was awkwardly standing, looking more and more alarmed as Bull grew closer and closer. But he stopped with a good foot or two of space between them. Not like it made much of a difference. Bull didn’t need to be close to someone to be intimidating.

“I appreciate the apology, but you didn’t have to. There was no way you would have known about Krem’s… past.” Bull squared his shoulders and tightened his jaw. “But if you ever step between me and my son, I will separate your head from your shoulders. Do you understand?” 

Dorian swallowed and nodded. “Crystal.” There was a moment of silence. “Kaffas, you look like you’re going to rip out of your shirt.” As soon as he said it, Dorian’s face flushed. He had light brown skin not unlike Krem’s but the red was still vibrant against his face. Bull laughed, stepping back to give Dorian a bit more space now that things were cleared up.

“It’s hard to find shirts that fit a Qunari down here.” Then Iron Bull closed his one existing eye and tilted his head ever so slightly.

“I can imagine.” It came out dryly and Bull laughed. “Wait -- were you trying to wink at me?” Dorian asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms, somehow managing to look indignant and curious and condescending all at once. “It doesn’t work that way. You have one eye!” Immediately Dorian started apologizing, no doubt realizing that it probably wasn’t polite to point such things out to near strangers. 

Fortunately for him, Iron Bull had a good sense of humor. “It’s all right, I appreciate being unique.” 

“You don’t need one eye to be unique,” Dorian replied, unable to keep the relief out of his voice. Bull grinned further and leaned back a little. Politely, Dorian refrained from commenting on how the Qunari’s horns were leaving small scratches on the ceiling. “But, ah, I should probably leave you be. I’m sure you’re a busy person Mr. Bull.”

“The Iron Bull. Or just Bull. No need for titles.” 

Dorian nodded and gave Bull a slight bow. “Well, the Iron Bull, it was a pleasure meeting you. Hopefully the next time we see one another it is under better circumstances.” Something appeared briefly in Dorian’s eyes before he turned to leave, hand on the doorknob. 

Later, when asked, Bull liked to lie and say that he just thought that Dorian had a cute butt or he didn’t think anything would come of it. He would lie and say he asked because he hadn’t been on a date in a while. Bull really didn’t think it would go anywhere and he certainly didn’t think that it would turn into A Thing. 

But the real reason Bull asked Dorian out for coffee was because he could tell, even in that short conversation, that Dorian was lonely. 

The fact that he was also very attractive had nothing to do with it. The fact that Krem didn’t like him made Bull certain that it would never go anywhere. 

And, in all honesty, Bull hardly expected Dorian to say yes. 

//

The Iron Bull was expecting tears when he sat Krem down and told him that he was interested in dating Dorian. He told this to Dorian in no uncertain terms right before explaining his one and only rule. In all fairness, Dorian took it well and said that he was more than ready to charm a grumpy child if that’s what it took to date Bull. 

After all, Dorian had escaped from Tevinter in order to do foolish things like throw his affections at the first big lummox to give him attention. An eight year old was not about to stop him. 

Now, the two adults had been seeing each other for some time already and Krem wasn’t stupid. He knew when his Tama was interested in someone and Dorian already came over a lot. Krem had picked up a few Tevene swears and it no longer made him scared to hear Dorian talking in Tevene. Tama was pretty proud of both those facts and Dorian had offered to teach Krem more words, help him be bilingual, but Krem had only shrugged at the offer. 

Point was, Krem wasn’t stupid. He knew that his Tama wanted to date Dorian and he knew that, even though he said mean things and pretended not to, Dorian really liked his Tama back. Krem didn’t trust Dorian very much, but it was less because he had done something wrong and more because Krem didn’t trust anyone who wanted to date his Tama. 

That was because none of them deserved Tama. So Krem had figured out a system. Well, he had figured out how to manipulate the one in place. He liked to think that, if Tama ever found out, he’d be proud of his Krem Puff. But it was simple, really. 

Krem made sure that the people his Tama brought home were good enough. That meant they didn’t get his approval until he was certain that they wouldn’t leave at the first sign of trouble. All it took was Krem saying that he didn’t like someone and his Tama wouldn’t date them. Most people left then, annoyed that an eight year old was more important than them. A few stuck around but gave up after Krem couldn’t just be bought with gifts, even if he did like them. 

He assumed that Dorian would be about the same. 

“I know you do not like him very much, kadan, but I was hoping that he could babysit you this weekend and you two could get to know each other better,” Tama explained. Krem kicked his legs back and forth. Dorian always smelled weird and he talked funny and he sometimes made fun of Tama for no reason. Even if Krem knew he was joking, it was still weird of Dorian to do that. But Dorian also made Tama smile and Krem knew that Tama wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.

“I guess I can try to get along,” Krem said, shrugging and looking at his Tama. Even though he was getting taller, Tama was still much bigger. Sometimes, Krem liked to pretend that he really was a Qunari but his horns hadn’t come in yet and his skin was a weird bronze instead of silver or gold. But he also knew that he didn’t have to look like Tama in order to be his son. 

It was nice being a son. 

“What are you gonna do when you’re gone?” Krem asked. Saturdays, Tama sometimes went out with friends to spend time with them, sort of like how Krem would have playdates with his friends. But recently Tama had been spending time with Dorian, but if Dorian was going to be with Krem… 

“Don’t worry, kadan. I’ll be back and in the morning I’ll make you pancakes.” Tama scratched his chin as he looked down at Krem. “Do you promise to behave? Dorian is going to tell me all about how you act and if he thinks you didn’t be nice…” 

Krem shook his head. “No, no, I’ll be good!” The Iron Bull nodded and waved down the waiter to order Krem a milkshake. He figured the kid deserved something for being so well behaved.

So that was how Krem found himself sitting in his living room with one Dorian Pavus, formerly of Minrathous, who looked like he had no idea what an eight year old would actually want to do. That, and the knowledge that Krem’s approval or lack of would more or less decide his future romantic plans. The added stress was not helping. 

“So… Do you want movies? Play video games? Read books?” Dorian asked, sounding like he expected Krem to say that he enjoyed sacrificing small animals to perform blood magic. Fortunately for him, Krem wasn’t a mage. “Your father, that is your Tama, excuse me, said that you like to play games?” 

“Can we eat some ice cream?” Krem asked. He had a system. Start off small, ask only for the little things. But by the end of the night, he’d either have the babysitter tripping over themself to please him or ready to run out without even kissing Tama goodbye. 

Dorian blinked and stared down at Krem. “Um. Your Tama said--”

“Tama isn’t here.” 

“You haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“I don’t wanna eat my dinner.” 

“You need to eat to be big like your Tama.” It probably would have been a more effective suggestion if it weren’t the same exact thing Tama said every time Krem didn’t want to eat his veggies. Also, Tama didn’t eat a lot of green things, but he said it was because he was already big. If he got any bigger then he’d squish Krem, or so Tama liked to say.

Krem was getting big and he did want to get bigger, but he wanted to challenge Dorian more. 

“I want ice cream.” Krem crossed his arms and did his best to loom at his babysitter, just like he had seen Tama do before when someone in a store kept calling Krem a girl. Dorian’s lips twitched upwards, but he kept his expression neutral enough that Krem didn’t notice. “I want ice cream now!” He stomped a foot, something he had never done for real since he was six. 

“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian swore. Krem still didn’t know what that meant, but the first time he had said it, Dorian had blushed bright red and Tama had burst out laughing. “Fine! If I get you ice cream will you behave?” 

_He’ll leave Tama,_ Krem thought, looking at Dorian. Sometimes it was hard to tell, but Krem had gotten pretty good at knowing who would stick around to deal with a kid. From time to time, Krem felt guilty. He really did. Tama deserved to be happy and if he didn’t have Krem then he wouldn’t have so much trouble finding someone. 

But if he didn’t have Krem, then how would Tama know to pick someone who deserved him? 

“Uh huh,” Krem lied. He grinned as Dorian let out a heavy sigh and led the two of them into the kitchen. This was going to be good.

//

“How was babysitting him?” 

“Fine. Although your boy insisted on getting ice cream before dinner. And then he made me watch the same blasted movie twice in a row.” 

“Did you give it to him?” 

“What?”

“The ice cream. Did you give it to him?”

“... Yes. It’s not funny! He gave me a look -- stop laughing -- and looked like you. Venhedis, I don’t care if he isn’t a Qunari, he takes after you. And no, that was not a compliment.” 

“So you like him?” 

“... Yes.” 

//

“We’re going to the park!” Krem grinned up at Varric who chuckled and slung an arm around the boy’s shoulders. They weren’t really that far apart in height, but for the time being Varric was the taller of the two. “Tama and Dorian are taking me,” he added, his face morphing into what was more accurately called a shit-eating grin.

Varric kept that to himself and glanced over to where Bull was talking to Dorian softly, right out of earshot. He never was able to get a good read on Bull but Dorian looked rather distressed. Then again, he also looked like that every time he ate something that wasn’t from the Rivani place across town, the coffee machine in the back office was broken, or he lost at chess to Cullen. 

“How are you liking your Tama’s, ah, boyfriend?” Varric asked, pulling away and leading Krem behind the library desk. There was a small collection of little candies that Sera kept around, which she thought no one else knew about and hopefully wouldn’t notice if a few were just gone. As long as Krem was the one who ate them, Varric figured Sera wouldn’t get too mad. 

“They aren’t dating,” Krem informed Varric rather cheerfully, going through the bowl with glee. Varric knew Bull didn’t let him eat a lot of candy and this was probably breaking a couple dozen rules, but there was no doubt that the Iron Bull also knew exactly what was going on. Admittedly, that was the last thing on Varric’s mind. 

He raised an eyebrow and looked at Krem. 

“What?” 

“Are you sure about that, Krem cake?” Varric asked, using one of Krem’s nicknames. The kid had about a dozen, after all. 

“Yeah. Tama doesn’t date people without me saying so.” Krem then occupied himself in opening up one of the candies, letting Varric glance over the library desk and see Dorian pouting while Bull laughed. If they weren’t dating, Varric would eat his laptop. But if they wanted Krem to believe otherwise, then whatever. It wasn’t Varric’s business, after all.

“Hey, Varric, where’d you take my kid?” The Iron Bull called out. Krem jumped up and waved his hand, the one not clutching to a bunch of candy. “Come on, Krem puff. Let’s get going before Dorian changes his mind.” 

“I cannot believe that you actually go to parks for entertainment. How Southern,” Dorian complained. Varric could tell that he was just teasing. No one could really get Dorian to do anything he didn’t want to do, after all. Dorian adjusted his scarf, which was most likely out of vanity and appearances since it wasn’t really that cold out, and squeezed one of Bull’s hands before letting go.

Krem ran out from behind the counter and jumped up and down in front of the Iron Bull. “Pick me up!” He demanded. Bull raised his remaining eyebrow and crossed his arms. 

“Well, I don’t know. You were eating candy back there, weren’t you?” Varric wasn’t surprised that Bull noticed, but Krem looked disappointed even as he kicked at the ground and nodded. “How about this. I’ll carry you to the car but once we get to the park, you have to walk. You’re getting too big to carry.” For most families, that probably would have been true. Varric had, on many an occasion, seen the Iron Bull pick up fully grown men like they were feathers. 

But Krem seemed excited about the prospect of almost being too big, as he just jumped up and down and kept squirming even as Iron Bull picked him up. Varric almost missed it, but for a moment Dorian smiled. 

Then the group was out the door. Varric chuckled and settled down behind the desk to write a little. He had a feeling this was going to be an interesting story.


	2. Chapter 2

“Cremisius, are you sure you don’t want to just… sit down for a moment?” Dorian asked, panting heavily as he finally got a moment to catch his breath. Krem had been dragging him around the park for the better part of two hours, nearing three, ranging from chasing after an ice cream truck to going to splash in a fountain with about a dozen other children. Dorian, who had chosen to wear black skinny jeans and a tight t-shirt, was suffering. 

And yes, Krem did convince Dorian to get him an ice cream. The compromise had been two scoops and Krem didn’t finish it. He got distracted about two thirds through by a dog, tossed his ice cream aside, and ran off. 

Dorian didn’t know what Bull had been feeding Krem, but over the course of knowing him for four months the boy had shot up a whole two inches and seemed to be running with about three times as much energy as usual. And it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Krem had also managed to wheedle Dorian into buying him cotton candy earlier after lunch. Thankfully he had eaten real food by then. 

There was the very real chance that, if Bull heard about one more outing where Dorian failed to feed Krem anything that wasn’t ninety percent sugar, that Dorian would lose his babysitting duties. 

As it was, Dorian was starting to think that might not be such a bad thing. 

“But we’ve only been out for a few hours,” Krem complained, pouting even as he sat down on a nearby bench. Relief flooded Dorian’s face as he joined the little boy. Krem kicked his feet back and forth but said nothing. It was probably the only time he had been quiet the entire trip and Dorian wasn’t about to disturb the peace. 

It wasn’t that Dorian disliked Krem. He wouldn’t be going through all of this, no matter how he felt about the Iron Bull, if he couldn’t stand spending time with Krem. But the issue was that Krem didn’t like Dorian. He didn’t like the older man and he made that very clear. And as long as that was how Krem felt, Bull refused to date Dorian. They’d fool around and kiss and do... _other_ things but they weren’t dating. 

At this point, Dorian was ready to pull his hair out but nothing seemed to be changing. He didn’t know what Krem wanted from him and he didn’t know what Bull wanted either. 

_“Wouldn’t it be easier to date someone else?”_ Felix, one of Dorian’s only friends from Tevinter, had asked a few months ago. _“It doesn’t really seem like this Iron Bull likes you.”_

_“Vishante kaffas, Felix. That is precisely the problem. I… I know that Bull has feelings for me. But he refuses to say that we are dating until his son approves. It’s just very… frustrating.”_ Dorian had no doubt that Felix didn’t quite understand, but that was fine. Half the time, Dorian didn’t know why he stuck with Bull. There certainly would be easier people to date, perhaps even people who were more refined or richer, but…

They weren’t Bull. 

Dorian didn’t know if he was capable of loving someone, but if he was… well, it would be someone like Bull. A person who looked absolutely terrifying at first glance but unashamedly loved the color pink, cried at shitty romance movies, and still tucked his eight and a half year old son into bed with a story every possible night. When Dorian didn’t, of course. 

Because yes, Dorian did read Krem a story whenever he was babysitting. Multiple ones, actually, since Krem always insisted on reading one about a family of nugs and another about a dragon that goes and rescues a princess from an evil knight. Only the Iron Bull could possibly find such children’s books. 

“Why do you like my Tama?” Krem asked suddenly, looking up at Dorian and squinting. Dorian spluttered, tan skin adopting a pink hue as he struggled to regain his control. He stood and stretched, adjusted his sunglasses, forced a casual smile on his face. 

“The big lummox does have some charm, which is rare enough here in the south,” Dorian replied as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Krem frowned and crossed his arms. For a horrible moment, Dorian thought the boy was going to push for a better answer. 

But instead Krem just stood up and grabbed Dorian’s hand. 

“Come on, Dor, I wanna go feed the ducks!” Krem pulled his babysitter along, ignoring the stream of Tevene curses that spilled from Dorian’s mouth. They did, indeed, go to feed ducks which then swarmed Dorian when he ran out of bread. Krem, the smarter of the two in that regard, had run away promptly after throwing his last piece and was utterly unrepentant in his laughter at Dorian’s predicament. 

Years and years of training in the best Circles Tevinter could offer, knowledge of magic that could put most people to shame, and Dorian was defeated by the common duck. Dorian had never been more glad in his life that Krem didn’t have a smartphone. 

//

“So what do you think of Dorian?” 

“What?” 

“Dorian. You two went to the park today, right kadan?” 

“Oh, yeah. He’s ok.” 

“He said you don’t call him Dorian. You call him Dor or Dori or ‘Vint, but not Dorian. Do you want to talk about that?” 

“... He calls me Cremisius.” 

“Ha! Well, Krem puff, does he get your approval yet?”

“No. He called you a lummox.” 

“He means it as a compliment. Hey, kadan?” 

“Yes, Tama?” 

“It’s ok if you don’t like him. But he really is trying.” 

“I know.” 

“Ok, just making sure. Say, Krem puff, do you want burgers or tacos for dinner?” 

//

Krem was a popular kid and about every other weekend, Bull found himself dropping his kid off at someone or other’s house or apartment or wherever the gathering was supposed to take place. He liked to try to get to know the other parents, which is how he became friends with one Garrett and Fenris Hawke, adoptive fathers of Danya ‘Dalish’ Hawke. When Bull had first heard about Krem’s friend, he had been a little suspicious of the nickname but Krem had insisted that Dalish asked to be called that and her fathers used it, so Bull just went along with it. 

He didn’t even want to know about how Skinner got her nickname, but her mother was a wonderful Dalish elf even if she was a mage. She made Bull and Krem matching scarves last Satinalia, so Bull couldn’t really complain. 

“Let me know if he acts unruly. He’s been pushing his boundaries with Dorian and I think he’s beginning to get a bit spoiled,” the Iron Bull explained as Krem ran off into the Hawke’s house. 

The two girls were already there and no doubt the rest of his friends were soon to arrive. Since the Hawkes had the biggest house of all the friends, they tended to host the big gatherings. That also meant that Krem had begun treating it like a second home, not even taking his shoes off before running inside. Bull let out a heavy sigh and started to shake his head before remembering that he would gouge grooves into the doorway if he did that.

“Krem! Come back here and give your Tama a hug before he leaves.” Unfortunately, Bull had difficulty navigating most houses since they weren’t built for Qunari in mind, so he couldn’t chase after his son. Krem did, in fact, come back and he hadn’t yet reached the stage of embarrassment over parental affection, so he let Bull give him a big kiss on the cheek. “Now take your shoes off and mind your manners. Dalish’s fathers have better things to do than clean up after you.” 

“I know, Tama.” 

Bull knew that, for eight year olds, the kids were all well-behaved but they were still only children. He made sure Fenris and Garrett knew that he could be called at any time before taking off for his date with Dorian. 

It definitely wasn’t a date if Krem asked, because Dorian and Bull definitely weren’t dating. And Bull didn’t call it a date either, not aloud. It was just a meeting between two good friends. Yes, two good friends who happened to kiss and send each other goodnight texts and little heart emojis. 

Well, Bull did. He was the sappier of the two. But even though Dorian liked to call him names, there was no doubt in the Iron Bull’s mind that Dorian had a very big soft spot in his heart. A Qunari-shaped spot, with a smaller Krem-shaped spot right next to it. 

“How was he when you dropped him off?” Dorian asked, in lieu of asking how Bull was. A soft chuckle escaped Bull as he pulled his hothouse orchid into a hug. The nickname had been Varric’s idea, though hothouse had been Bull’s addition. 

“Oh he gave me a big hug and ran off to cause chaos in someone else’s house,” Bull replied. “You’re spoiling him. I’m sure Garrett will tell me all about how much sugar Krem ate and how close he came to,” Bull shifted, pitching his voice to sound a little higher, more like Garrett’s, “Breaking Mother’s fine china.” Dorian rolled his eyes and slapped Iron Bull’s side. There was no heat to it and Bull hardly even felt it. Krem could punch harder. Then again, Dorian wasn’t trying.

“Come on, we have a whole four hours without your son and I want to enjoy it.” That drew a laugh out of Bull.

“You act as if you don’t like him.” Bull held the door open for Dorian, who strode forward as if he owned the place. It was a small cafe, about twenty minutes from the college. Bull had discovered it after he had been contracted to fix a leaky roof a few years ago. The owner had given Krem a cookie every day Krem came to the site. Treating Krem well was probably the fastest way to Bull’s heart. 

Needless to say, the Iron Bull was a big fan of _A Cup of Tea Cafe._

“He’s a small child. How do you think I feel about him?” Dorian pouted. Bull might have left the spy life behind, but he still had all the skills. He saw the slight twitch at the corners of Dorian’s lips and knew that, even if he’d never say it, that Dorian didn’t hate Krem. In fact, he treated Krem just as well as Bull did.

Maybe even better, if one was measuring the literal amount of treats given to the already energetic eight year old. 

“Uh huh, sure.” Bull ordered him and Dorian drinks and sandwiches, rattling off Dorian’s order without hesitation. The surprise was evident on both his face and the woman behind the counter, but neither of them said anything as Bull handed over his card to pay. Hey, he was the one who asked Dorian out on this definitely-not-a-date. 

“Here’s your number. Your order will be out shortly, the Iron Bull,” Josephine, one of the two owners of the cafe, said. 

“Thanks, Josie. How’s the wife?” Bull asked, winking to the woman in question. She laughed and the two of them spoke a bit about how Leliana was finishing up her latest painting, some more abstract representation of the nearby mountains. “That sounds great. You gonna put it up on the wall?” 

“If we have room for it,” Josephine replied, smiling a little wider. She made it sound like the walls were covered in paintings, but really they were artfully hung every few feet and, despite the wide variety of subject matter, all went together quite nicely. 

The cafe was not, perhaps, the most formal of places but Bull didn’t care much for black tie events or anywhere with more than one kind of fork. And while he knew that Dorian had that kind of pampered lifestyle back in Tevinter, Bull also could tell that Dorian liked everything else a little bit more. Even if he did call it ‘quaint’ or ‘charming’ or ‘rustic’ as if he was describing somebody’s grandmother. 

“How is work at the college?” Iron Bull asked as he and Dorian lounged in the soft arm chairs the cafe used instead of normal chairs. They were designed to be big enough for two people to sit in, so Bull just about fit in one and Dorian could spread across his own like a model awaiting his photographer. Bull kept that observation private; last thing he needed was to inflate Dorian’s already sizeable ego. 

“Oh, you know,” Dorian said with a dismissive hand wave, right before launching into a ten minute diatribe about how his coworker, Solas, kept getting into arguments with someone named Anders about magic’s place in the modern world. Seeing as Dorian was a bigger fan of the actual use and application of magic rather than the possible moral ramifications, the arguments were a bit too much for even him.

That didn’t stop him from getting into fights with both Solas and Anders, but those tended to be over other matters. 

Bull liked hearing about them anyway. 

“It’s like they don’t even see me, they just see where I’m from,” Dorian complained for what might have been the actual hundredth time. “I know that Tevinter is not known for being very welcoming to elves or to, well, most people. But I am not Tevinter!” He let out a heavy sigh and gave the Iron Bull a weak smile. “My apologies, Bull. I’m certain you didn’t come here to listen to me complain about two other men.”

“No,” Bull admitted, “But I do like to hear you talk.”

Dorian laughed. “Ah, well, that’s very good. I’m told that, along with magic and my impeccable taste in clothing and make-up, that my ability to talk is one of my best traits.” There was a moment of silence as he nibbled at his mostly-eaten sandwich. “You know, I was never very good with children. My father made me spend time with my cousins, no doubt in hopes that it would cultivate some parental feelings in me or something like that.” 

That drew a smile out of Bull, even if he disliked hearing about Dorian’s father on principle. The night that Dorian had let that particular cat out of the bag, Bull had held him for an hour. Nothing else, just held him and made sure that Dorian knew that he had someone there with him. And that night, Bull couldn’t help but peak in at Krem and reassure himself that he had gotten the boy out of there, that Krem was safe from bastards who would use something as horrible as blood magic to try to change a person for who they were. 

“Well, how are your skills now with children?” Bull asked. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Seeing as Krem is no doubt reporting on my every move,” Dorian shot back. He frowned and shook his head. “My apologies, I admit that I have been… on edge as of late. I know that darling Cremisius is a charming young man and I’m sure that he will grow up to be even more stubborn and… _driven_ than his bull-headed father, but for the life of me I can’t see why he dislikes me so much.”

“He called you a stinky Tevinter bastard,” Bull admitted. “I think he picked it up from Sera.”

“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian swore.

“He’s saying that too.” Bull grinned. “Maybe I should be talking to you about swearing less in front of my kid.” It wasn’t really a threat and Dorian didn’t treat it as such, but really he didn’t need to roll his eyes quite that much. Bull pretended to be offended and all it did was make Dorian laugh. 

“I know for a fact, Bull, that you say much worse in front of him. Besides, none of his teachers or friends know what it means. It’s harmless.” Bull knew that his son was more than intelligent enough to look up what two words meant, but he didn’t feel like he really needed to point that out to Dorian. Besides, there were more important things to talk about. 

“If you want, I can talk to him,” Bull offered. He had, in the past, attempted to figure out why Krem disliked Dorian so much. Somehow, despite being a decorated combat veteran who served multiple tours in one of the most dangerous places in Thedas in one of the most dangerous positions in the military -- a Ben-Hassrath -- who was known for getting information out of people, Bull couldn’t crack his own son.

Then again, he wasn’t really trying to get answers. If Krem wanted to keep his secrets, then Bull would let him. As long as they didn’t endanger anyone and, for as dramatic as Dorian could be, his lack of a wild sex life wouldn’t actually kill him.

“No, no,” Dorian replied waving his hand again. “It really isn’t important. If your son doesn’t approve, then he doesn’t approve. Simple as that. I’ll just have to try harder.” He made a face. “I will say, Bull, that I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. Your son is cutting into my beauty budget.” 

Iron Bull snorted and stole a french fry off of Dorian’s plate. 

//

“So how was he?” 

“Krem? Fine. We got him hyped up on sugar and he crashed, oh, three hours ago.” 

“Yeah, sorry if he was a handful. We’re gonna have a talk about self-control and not gorging yourself on sugar.” 

“He’s eight, it’s fine. And oh, Bull, where’s he learning his Tevene?” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, Krem was playing a game and he stubbed his toe and started cursing. I thought Fenris was going to drop the bottle he was holding.” 

“Ah… Sorry?” 

“Nah, it was hilarious. But seriously, where is he learning? Fenris said his accent was, and I quote, more pretentious than a drunk magister’s.” 

“Right. Yeah. That would be Dorian.” 

“Dorian? Are you dating someone?” 

“Not if Krem has anything to say about it.” 

//

Krem didn’t know what he was doing wrong. He tried pitching fits like a baby, asking for increasingly more expensive or hard to find things, argued over the most mundane decisions, and at one point had actually flung a thing of pasta at Dorian. That had been a waste of good food. But despite everything, the man kept coming back to try to play nice. 

He wanted Krem to like him and Krem didn’t get it. Through the months they had known each other, all Krem had done was be progressively more and more horrible. And, to top it all off, Tama wasn’t even talking to Krem about it. Usually if Krem was so poorly behaved, he’d get grounded or at least have to explain _why_ he was doing something. Instead, Tama just sighed and went to go comfort Dorian.

It was driving Krem out of his mind. None of Tama’s partners had lasted this long and sometimes, Krem thought maybe he should give up. If Dorian wanted to date Tama, then he could. But then Dorian would say something, poke fun at Tama or the south or just act like he was too good for Tama. That set Krem on edge. He didn’t want to give Tama and Dorian permission to date only for Dorian to leave. 

“I think you’re worrying too much,” Dalish had said when Krem explained what was going on. 

“You can’t trust shem,” Skinner argued. When Krem protested, she rolled her eyes. “You don’t count. Your dad is Qunari.” 

“Tal-Vashith,” Krem corrected, accidentally butchering the term. 

“One of my dads i human,” Dalish pointed out, and the conversation just deteriorated from there. 

But Krem had to admit, maybe Dalish was right. So that was why, on a trip to the mall with Dorian while Tama worked, he decided he’d try to be on good behavior. He’d even only ask for a few things, instead of all the things he really wanted. Tama was a bit more strict about toys anyway, since their house wasn’t very big and a lot of the small things were hard for Tama to see. 

Tama had crushed several of Krem’s toys underfoot when he was younger before giving up on smaller things like legos and deciding that anything less than three inches long was a bad idea. 

“Do you want to eat first, Cremisius, or would you prefer to visit a few stores?” Dorian asked, his accent somehow thicker than usual. That was another thing Krem didn’t like. For some reason, Dorian refused to call him Krem. Cremisius was better than a girl’s name, and it technically was his name, but still. It was _weird._ Dorian was weird. 

Krem shrugged, letting go of Dorian’s hand to wipe off some sweat. He could see how Dorian tensed, expecting Krem to dash off as he had done many times in the past. But instead Krem took Dorian’s hand back, squeezing it the same way he might reassure his Tama. 

“I’m not hungry,” he admitted, though he would never say no to food. Dorian hesitated, looking down at him with a slightly perplexed expression, before nodding and leading them off towards the bookstore. Tama sometimes brought Krem there, but mostly they went to the library. Krem knew that they weren’t poor, but Tama didn’t like spending money if they didn’t have to. 

That mostly meant Krem didn’t get a lot of treats or special gifts outside of holidays or his birthday. Dorian had yet to get that notice, though, or was just taking to bribery better than anyone else Tama had wanted to date. By that virtue alone, Krem guessed that Dorian wasn’t too bad. 

“You can go look at the children’s book, Cremisius. I’m going to look in the history section. Do try not to get lost,” Dorian said, patting Krem on the head. 

Krem barely resisted the urge to stick his tongue out, choosing to go look at the books like Dorian suggested. Even though he was pretending to be a little kid, he wasn’t actually five.

The kid’s section was an entire quarter or so of the store and Krem soon got lost in the books. He wasn’t a huge reader but there was a novelty in being _in_ the bookstore. Krem ignored the picture books but felt a bit too intimidated by the bigger chapter books, instead settling in the corner, surrounded by big pillows, to read a big book of myths. There were pictures on every page and he hadn’t heard of any of the stories before. 

Dalish and Skinner were both elves and Krem knew that Skinner celebrated elven holidays. Her mom was much more religious than anyone else Krem knew. In contrast, Dalish’s elf dad didn’t seem very much like an elf. Krem wasn’t sure why she called herself Dalish, but he figured it was just a ‘her’ thing. His other friends were Rocky and Stitches, so he was no stranger to weird nicknames. 

Krem wasn’t sure how long he sat there, going through the book. No one gave him a second look, as it was normal to see a kid reading with or without parents. There were all sorts of people walking around, a few with green vests on that showed they worked there but mostly just families. It was in the middle of the day but the schools were all on break so the mall was more busy than it usually would have been.

He sat there, reading, and didn’t notice that anything was wrong until his name was called over the intercom. Krem looked up, staring at the ceiling in confusion. 

“Will Cremisius Aclassi Bull please come to the help desk in the center of the store? Dorian is looking for you.” A bit annoyed that Dorian had decided to make an announcement instead of coming to look for him, Krem put the book under one arm and went to go find the help desk. 

It only took him a few minutes and he saw Dorian before Dorian saw him.

The first word that came to mind was _frantic._ Dorian was pacing back and forth, his hair still perfect but his clothes mused, as if he had been running around earlier. He was focused on the ground, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. He was hunched over ever so slightly, perhaps the only time Krem had seen him without perfect posture. Krem watched him for a moment before someone got Dorian’s attention and pointed at where Krem was standing. 

“There you are!” Dorian seemed to lose all the tension in his shoulders, straightening up as he ran at Krem. There was nothing he could do as Dorian grabbed him and picked him up, squeezing the air out of Krem’s lungs. Dorian began talking, babbling so fast that Krem couldn’t understand him.

Then Krem realized that Dorian was speaking Tevene. Krem didn’t know what he was saying, didn’t know why Dorian was so worked up. While before it would have freaked Krem out, panicking about what the Tevene meant and who was talking in a language that had only hurt him before, now he knew who Dorian was. 

He knew that Dorian wouldn’t hurt him and he wouldn’t hurt Tama either. 

“I was reading,” Krem interrupted as soon as he was put back on the ground. 

“You were -- I couldn’t find you anywhere! I thought you had been taken or wandered away!” Dorian was back in control of himself and was back to speaking Common, even if his accent was more pronounced with his stress. “What -- you -- do you know what Bull would have done to me if I lost you?” He asked. Krem felt something inside him crumble, realizing that all Dorian cared about was Tama’s approval. “I… I would never have forgiven myself either,” Dorian admitted. 

Krem looked up at him and wondered if this was what Tama saw in Dorian. 

“What -- what book are you holding?” Dorian asked, kneeling down so he was at eye level with Krem. His eyes were glistening a little and Krem realized that he had been close to crying. Not able to speak, Krem just held the book up. “ _Elven and Dwarven Myths for Children._ Really? This drivel? If you want to know about such things, I can provide countless better books on the subject.” Dorian seemed like he was going to continue, to go on a rant like he did every time he spent time with Krem or Tama, but he stopped. 

He let out a sigh and pulled Krem into a hug. He let go and stood up, took Krem’s hand, and squeezed it tightly. “Come on, I’ll buy you that… that book. And then we can go get ice cream.” 

It was the best ice cream Krem had ever had in his life, even if Dorian didn’t let him get three scoops. 

// 

There wasn’t really an official date for Krem’s birthday. Tama had asked him, when he had first taken Krem from the orphanage, if he remembered. But Krem hadn’t, not besides knowing that it was during the summer. So they celebrated in the warmest month, exactly four months before Family Day, which was what Tama called the day that Varric had gotten their paperwork completed and made Krem officially Tama’s son.

So every year Tama insisted that Krem celebrate his birthday and count himself a year older. And part of that involved picking who got to come to the party. Not that the party was ever anything large, but Krem always invited all his friends and his classmates. Tama was also allowed to invite a few adults so that he had people to talk to, but they also had to bring gifts. 

“I would like to bring Dorian to your birthday party,” Tama said one night, a few weeks before the party. Krem looked up from his dinner and blinked, not sure he had heard his Tama correctly. Things were definitely better between Krem and Dorian, partially because Dorian was actually calling him by his nickname instead of his full name but mostly because Krem had stopped being such a brat. But Krem didn’t know if he wanted Dorian at his birthday party. 

“Can I think about it?” Krem asked, using the same words that his Tama used whenever the answer was probably a ‘no’ but he didn’t want to say it just yet. Tama nodded and that, Krem assumed, was that. 

Later that week, Dorian joined them for dinner. It wasn’t unusual for him to do so. In fact, Krem was getting used to having Dorian pick him up from school or having Dorian drive him over to Tama’s job sites. With Tama’s weird hours, usually Krem would go home with Dalish or one of his other friends. Sometimes Varric would help out too. But now it was mostly Dorrian who literally picked up Krem when Tama couldn’t. 

Krem just missed the applesauce cups that Dalish got as snacks every time she got home, but sometimes Dorian could be convinced to buy them Orlesian fries, so Krem figured this was better. 

Regardless, Krem sat through dinner and didn’t complain once. He even did the dishes and didn’t splash Dorian with water, though he loudly cursed in Tevene when he burned his hand on some particularly hot water. That, too, was becoming normal. Tama never spoke Qunlat in front of Krem, but Dorian seemed determined to teach Krem some Tevene even if Krem had all the eagerness of a cat in water.

“You’re young, this should be easy,” Dorian often said. “Besides, it’s your language, your culture. Aren’t you interested at all?” 

“I’m Ferelden,” was all Krem had to say on the matter. Still, Dorian persisted and so Tevene was rapidly becoming part of his vocabulary. It was kind of cool, if only because he could swear in front of his teacher without her knowing. 

After dinner, the three had sat in the living room and watched a football match. Tama sometimes played catch with Krem, but Krem had much more interest in basketball or soccer. None of those were on television, though, so he settled for a slightly more boring game. Dorian spent the whole time complaining, loudly, about how barbaric it all was.

“This is so dreadfully _Southern,_ ” he said as he sipped a glass of wine. Krem made a face and looked up at his Tama. 

“You like it,” Bull told Dorian, nudging him with a foot. Dorian rolled his eyes. This exchange, or something close to it, kept happening for the rest of the night. 

Finally, though, Krem was yawning more than he was smiling and Tama noticed. “Come on, Krem puff. Time to get you to bed.” Krem put up a token resistance as was necessary, but he didn’t really argue against changing into his pajamas or brushing his teeth. “Dorian’ll be gone in the morning. Do you want to say goodnight to him?” Tama asked. 

“Good night, Dor,” Krem said, waving sleepily at Dorian. 

“Good night, Krem,” Dorian replied, standing and giving Krem a brief hug. “I’ll make sure Bull goes to sleep on time.” With that, Krem found himself marched up to bed and tucked in. Tama kissed him on the forehead, promised to keep all the demons away, and made sure that Krem’s stuffed nugs were all given kisses too. 

After making sure Krem was comfortable as a bug in a rug, Tama went back to the living room. Krem tried to fall asleep for about five minutes before jolting up in bed, the realization hitting him like a Qunari football player going for the winning touchdown. 

_Tama forgot to read me a bedtime story,_ Krem thought as he threw his covers off and headed out of his room. He almost charged into the living room but the lack of noise from the television made him hesitate. Then he heard what was _definitely_ someone crying. Krem pressed himself up against a wall, trying to listen in as his Tama softly comforted Dorian.

“It’s ok, Dorian. He’s a kid,” Tama was saying. Krem frowned, not sure who they could be talking about. “He’ll warm up to you eventually. He likes you more than he lets on, you know. Most of my… previous partners have given up by now. Your ‘Vint stubbornness is being put to good use.” There was a soft sniff.

“He’s just as much a ‘Vint as I, Bull, no matter what you or he says about the matter.” A moment of silence. Krem strained to hear the slightest noise. “I… I just want him to like me. Vishante kaffas, it shouldn’t be this hard for a kid to like me!” 

“This is important to you.” It wasn’t a question. Tama used that tone of voice whenever he knew Krem had broken a rule, but hadn’t yet confessed to it. 

“He’s your kid, Bull. Of course he’s important to me. You great lummox, I -- you know I care for you.” There was a low rumble that Krem recognized as the noise Tama made when he was happy. The closest Krem had gotten to replicating it was a low hum. “It isn’t even about dating you. Obviously. I -- how can I be expected to keep you around if I can’t even convince your son I’m not a terrifying magister?” 

Krem wasn’t stupid. He knew who they were talking about. He just hadn’t realized how _much_ Dorian cared. That, behind his bluster and bravado, he was worried enough to cry over it. 

“You don’t have to keep me around, Dorian. You already have me.” There was another sniff and then shuffling. Krem felt a stab of fear at the idea that he might be caught, so he quickly turned and ran back to his room.

He huddled under his covers, squeezing his stuffed nugs close, and fell asleep wondering if Dorian should hate him. 

//

“Tama?”

“Yes, Krem puff?”

“Can I make invitations for my party?” 

“Of course you can. Do you want me to help with them?” 

“No.”

“Uh huh.” 

“Ok, maybe a little. Can you help me write them?” 

“Sure. But only if we make a pink one.” 

“But none of my friends like pink.”

“Aw, Krem, are you saying I’m not your friend?” 

“You’re my Tama, silly. There’s a difference.”

“Right.” 

“Tama?”

“Yes, kadan?”

“I’ll make you a pink card.”

//

Dorian was holding onto his sanity by threads. His relationship with Bull wasn’t allowed to be called that, he was still working at Haven College as a glorified research assistant, and his best friend was creeping ever closer to death without any hope of Dorian seeing him before the end. It was enough to drive a lesser man back into the comfort of a familiar, destructive lifestyle but Dorian was not such a man. He was a prime example of the best Tevinter had to offer which, admittedly, was not saying much seeing at the nation was one of the most corrupt in the world. But still, Dorian was not about to admit defeat. 

He had not run away from his father, given up his birthright and literally millions of dollars and a fabulous lifestyle, all to come crawling back at the slightest sign of trouble. Ok, it was more than slight. It was practically a neon sign screaming in his face that he wasn’t cut out for this sort of rough living. 

But every time Dorian thought about that, about going back home, he thought about what he’d leave behind. Wicked Grace nights with his friends, Sera pranking him endlessly and leaving candy on his desk as an apology, Varric giving him stupid nicknames, challenging Cullen to chess matches. 

The Iron Bull. His love for pink that had long since crossed over the border of strange and unadvisable into the land of ridiculous and unpalatable. His anxiety over magic that Dorian soothed, whether it was through easing the pain in his knee or just cleaning up spills with the flick of a wrist. The fact that he was willing to stare down a herd of druffalo for his son. Maker, the fact that his son was a human from Tevinter!

No, Dorian wouldn’t give that up for any amount of riches. He wouldn’t say no to fine wine or nicer clothes, but it wasn’t worth sacrificing exactly what he had been looking for. 

Because, as hard as life might be at Haven, he was loved. And that was worth everything. Even if Iron Bull’s son didn’t like him.

Reading a book in Bull’s living room while Krem did homework in the other room was still frighteningly domestic. Dorian did feel a spark of confusion as Krem suddenly padded in, something clutched behind his back. 

“Dorian, I have something for you,” Krem said, his eyes big and innocent. Dorian still half expected to get handed a frog or a pile or mud or something equally disgusting. But he held his hand out and received a large, construction paper letter. It was a horrific shade of pink with glitter all over the front and “TO DORIEN POOVAS” written in what Dorian recognized as Krem’s handwriting. He was certain that Bull had allowed Krem to misspell Dorian’s name or, equally likely, had encouraged him to mess it up on purpose. 

The card was ugly and would get silver and red glitter all over Dorian for the rest of the day and Dorian thought he was going to cry from how much he loved it. 

“You gotta open it,” Krem reminded him. Dorian smiled and nodded.

“I was merely appreciating its aesthetic,” he said as he carefully unfolded it, getting an unfortunate amount of glitter on him and the floor. Dorian’s eyes were naturally drawn to the misshapen balloons, the unevenly drawn boxes with oversized bows, and the thing that was supposed to be a cake. Krem was talented in many ways, but his artistic ability left much to be desired. 

But what really caught Dorian’s attention were the words carefully printed on the paper. 

There was a moment of silence. 

Then Dorian burst into tears and pulled Krem into a hug. 

“Is that a yes?” Krem asked, confused as he pat Dorian on the back. 

“Of course it is, Krem. I would love to come to your birthday party.” 

//

Dalish screamed as Krem playfully squirted her with his water gun, a brown bandana keeping his hair out of his eyes and a childish smear of paint making him look every bit an eight year old pretending to be someone from a movie. Dorian couldn’t keep his eyes away, wondering if this was what his childhood could have been like if, perhaps, he had been born as someone other than a Tevinter altus. 

“Hey, you’re doing that thinking thing again,” Iron Bull said as he walked over, a glass of water in hand. He didn’t drink when guests were over, at least not when most of the guests were shorter than four feet tall. 

“Yes, Bull, it may surprise you that I am capable of thought but I assure you that most human beings are,” Dorian replied even as he gave Bull a kiss on the cheek. Dorian was by no means a small person, but he still had to get on his tiptoes to pull it off. 

Bull laughed and leaned down to kiss Dorian’s neck. 

“Ew,” Krem shouted, “No kissing at my party!” Bull and Dorian broke apart right as Krem decided to emphasize his point with a well-placed squirt of water to Bull’s chest. It was aimed at Dorian but Bull had displayed his surprising agility and taken it for him. 

_Ah, true love,_ Dorian thought. He promptly dropped his glass. Fortunately it was just on some grass and he brushed aside any attempts Bull made to help pick up what was a little cracked, but not shattered, glass. 

“Enjoy the party. It’s not every day one’s son turns nine,” Dorian reminded him. 

“Yeah, pay attention to me!” Krem shouted. He raised his hands up to his head and curled all the fingers but his pinkies down. “Horns up! Chargers, attack!” He shouted, raising his water gun at Bull. 

“That is my cue to go inside,” Dorian said, taking his exit as Bull was set upon by a horde of small children armed with super soakers and other implements of watery destruction. Inside, Varric was chatting with Hawke. The two were supposed to be helping watch the kids, but somehow Fenris and Dorian had been given that responsibility. Dorian thought it was an attempt to have them get along, but really they had spent the whole time ignoring each other. 

There were some people Dorian _wasn’t_ going to try to talk to unless he absolutely had to and Fenris was one of those people. 

Dorian set the glass in the sink. His particular brand of magic wasn’t very good for fixing things and he was just as liable to break it further if he tried. It probably would get thrown out later, but maybe Bull knew someone who could do something about the cracks. 

The kitchen did provide a good view out to the front yard with the added benefit of being indoors. Ferelden summers were nothing like Tevinter’s, but Dorian was convinced that the cold spring had sapped his ability to tolerate heat because even forty minutes outside had been torture. Then again, that might have been from the incessant screaming. 

“Is Fenris still out there?” Hawke asked, walking in to get a refill on his water. A quick glance out the window revealed that Bull and Fenris had pulled out the hose and were currently drenching the children. Krem’s usually curly hair was flat against his face and his face paint had been reduced to smears. “Ah, he’s so cute when he’s smiling,” Hawke said. Dorian was pretty sure the look on Fenris’ face was better described as a sneer or, generously, a smirk, but he kept his mouth shut. 

Bull was full-body laughing, barely able to point the hose the right way with how much he was shaking. Dorian watched as Krem backed his friends up and then proceeded to full body tackle his father. Seeing as Krem probably weighed less than one of Iron Bull’s arms, it was a little ridiculous for Bull to throw himself back, landing on the lawn and finding himself swarmed by children. 

Fenris only turned the hose to shower the group, his smirk growing a little wider.

“You don’t strike me as a big fan of children,” Hawke commented. Dorian shrugged.

“I’m not.” He hesitated, then remembered that Hawke was married to someone not only from Tevinter, but who had experienced the absolute worst the nation had to offer and somehow came out the other end in a loving, healthy relationship. 

And with a child. That was, perhaps, the most surprising fact.

“Bull makes it worth it.” No, that was a lie. Dorian could tell Hawke knew it was a lie. So he just let out a heavy sigh, fixing the end of his moustache. “Fasta vass, yes, I like Krem as well. He’s a good kid. Bull raised him well.” _And I love Bull._ He couldn’t say it. He hardly could think it. But he felt it. 

And that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [tumblr.](http://scatteringmyashes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
